


Remember Me?

by Anonymous



Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brain Damage, Eventual Happy Ending, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, M/M, Pining, Secret Identity, Temporary Amnesia, no beta we die like robins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:20:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: There’s something in the way Jason looks at him that makes Dick feel strange.Dick gets amnesia and in his quest to figure out whoheis—while living in a family that is keen on keeping everything a secret—he must deal and come to terms with his feelings towards Jason, the so-called "family friend". Someone who thepreviousDick was close friends with.Except there’s nothing familial Dick feels for him.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Everyone, Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Comments: 18
Kudos: 101
Collections: Anonymous





	Remember Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Excited to write this! Enjoy! The rating could change if I end up writing smut or not.
> 
> P.D: This is un-beta'ed, so please forgive me from the typos and mistakes. English is not my native language <3

There’s something in the way Jason looks at him that makes Dick feel _strange_. Not in the way an illness or injury works—trust him he has enough experience with trauma in the head department to know a thing or two—it’s just...this weird feeling of warmth and tenderness that he gets whenever Jason’s around.

The worst part? Dick doesn’t remember when it first started and _that is what_ bothers him the most. He doesn’t know whether this was _before_ the accident or after and despite how _hard_ he tries, like most parts of the previous life he desperately wants to remember, everything ends up blank.

And it scares him. Haunts him if he’s being dramatic about it because while he may have 10% less brain matter than the rest of the mortals living on this earth if there’s one thing Dick’s not is being _stupid_.

There’s something that tells him _this_ is not normal. Thinking about Jason once he’s finally alone in his room after telling everyone goodnight (and trying very hard to ignore their hushed whispers as soon as he leaves every room) is not normal. Or waking up in the middle of the night with the faintest traces of a dream in which he’s pressing himself against a body looking for some warmth-

_Keep your eyes open for me. I wanna see you like this._

_Yes, just like that._

He lets out a shuddering breath and keeps on walking. Ready to slap his cheeks if that means it will bring some sense back into him because this feeling? It’s not normal. From what Dick has managed to get from the vague conversation in the manor Jason is nothing more than a dear family friend. Someone who the _previous_ Dick Grayson was friends with.

Close friends, according to everyone else.

 _Perhaps it’s a post-surgery effect?_ Dick wonders as he takes a sudden turn to the left, careful to not stray far from his brother ( _D-Damian_ , his mind struggles to add) in their daily walks.

Dick lets out a hum, deep in thought. He should probably ask the doctor about it because the number of times Tim has asked him if he’s okay whenever Jason says hello is getting close to _ridiculous-_

“Grayson!” the sharp voice brings him back to reality and in a blink of an eye, he loses his balance. He curses his breath and closes his eyes, ready to embrace the pain. He waits and waits but instead of pain, Dick feels nausea and a sharp feeling of vertigo. It feels like he’s falling (falling? and why does that word sound so painful?)

It doesn’t make sense.

He slowly opens his eyes, confusion all over his face when he realizes he’s crouching down on the ground. Dick blinks as Damian runs up to him with Titus and just like that, his hands start trembling.

Dick has no idea what just happened.

“I’m fine,” he says apologetically, groaning as he stands up and offers Damian a smile but his younger brother looks frantic, almost… _scared_.

“Did you have to show off?” Damian whispers, frantically looking for any nearby passenger. “Someone could have been _watching._ Father has told us countless times to be cautious. Doing a flip-”

“Show off?” Dick asks, confused and Damian’s face goes slack in horror. “Damian?” Dick repeats starting to worry.

“Never mind,” Damian says and begins tugging his hand in the direction where the exit is. “I’m sure Pennyworth is expecting us already.”

If Damian’s voice comes out trembling, Dick doesn't comment on it.

* * *

Dick doesn’t quite remember about incident or the _before_. Everything he knows so far is because he’s either been told or has deduced from the conversations with the people he currently lives with.

All he knows is that he’s Dick Grayson who’s in his mid-twenties and who lived in Blüdhaven as soon as he reached the majority of age. A man who happened to be at the wrong _place_ and _time_ when a shooting nearby started and like most civilians, he accidentally got in the line of fire. An incident that left him with a bullet inside in his head and all the possible side effects of surviving an injury of such caliber.

 _A miracle_ , they say except… Dick doesn’t feel like a miracle. Quite on the contrary this whole thing makes him feel like a freak. He _hates_ how everyone treats him, like he’s someone made out of glass and that at the lightness comments he’s going to break or explode. It _angers_ him and has made him wonder more than once what could have happened if the bullet had gotten a bit _deeper-_

 _Who am I?_ is the question that he asks himself every day but every attempt, no matter how hard he tries, has given the same result and he... just wants to know _who_ he is.

**Who is Dick Grayson?**

_(he doesn't know)_

The only reason he hasn't quit is because if he closes his eyes and tries hard enough he can get these short but intense memories. Sensory experiencesthat are fragmented and fractured, distorted to the point where Dick doesn’t know if they are real or not.

_A laugh._

_A pair of arm filled with scars that gently embrace him, as a voice whispers_

_-̷̻͈͍͓̤̾̈́̄͒̍͌̓̀̋͝;̵̛̗̜̱͎̦̞̲̖͔̠͗̓͑̍͑̉͝͠͝.̶̡̢̤͙̭͓̝̼̃͘ͅ-̷̻͈͍͓̤̾̈́̄͒̍͌̓̀̋͝;̵̛̗̜̱͎̦̞̲̖͔̠͗̓͑̍͑̉͝͠͝G̶̨̖̫̰͈͉͖̱͖̉͆́͆̓̅ö̴̘͇͎́͆ơ̶̢̩̱̬͔̮̘̣̼̹͐̈́͒̑̆̂͘͠d̴̡͚͍͔̝͙̤̮̑̉̉̏̔̎̐̈́̚ ̵͕͓̦̥̮̱̥̒́̓ .̶̱̦̖̪̉̋̑ͅ;̴̠̹̦͂̃̿̄̇̀-̷̻͈͍͓̤̾̈́̄͒̍͌̓̀̋͝;̵̛̗̜̱͎̦̞̲̖͔̠͗̓͑̍͑̉͝͠͝.̶̡̢̤͙̭͓̝̼̃͘ͅ.̶̛̺͓͎́̂ -̷̻͈͍͓̤̾̈́̄͒̍͌̓̀̋͝;̵̛̗̜̱͎̦̞̲̖͔̠͗̓͑̍͑̉͝͠͝.̶̡̢̤͙̭͓̝̼̃͘ͅm̴̼̫̊̿̈́͑̅̊ȍ̸͙̄̓͐̄́̿́r̸̜̭̮̹̫n̸̳͙̲̭̍͊͋̌̓͗̈́̋͘ī̴̡̤͇̅͛̎͂̚̕͝ň̶̮͒̚g̶̨̛̛̗̘̰̪̩̫͑̓̑̈̊͗͆̕ .̶̱̦̖̪̟̉̋̑ͅ.̶̡̢̤͙̭͓̝̼̃͘ͅ.̶̛̺͓́̂ ̸̢͍̫̃̅͒̓̕͝b̵̢͎̣̯̝̟̻͎̞̍̾͝ḙ̸̻̹͊̉͜ͅả̵̢̬͉u̵̢̼̤̼̯̘̒̓͂͠͠t̸̥̼͉͎̱̥̙̹̙́̐i̸̩̿̎̓̋͊͝͝f̶̫͊͒̑̑̽͑͆̏ư̴̧̦͙̥̻̟̥̬̣̄̽̆͛̅͒̇̕l̴̼̙̪̄̕_

Perhaps they’re not memories. Perhaps this is just his half-functioning brain making up scenarios and indulging Dick into some fantasies because he can’t deal with the fact he’s got amnesia and that his life won't ever be the same. _Coping mechanism_ as his therapist likes to say. Wouldn’t be the first time it happened.

_It probably won’t be the last._

His brother still teases him to this day for thinking, while he was pre-sedated in the operation room (one of the multiple operations he has undergone to get some semblance of functionality), that he was a vigilante.

 _You were a cop,_ Tim wheezed out long after he stopped laughing with tears in his eyes, _you hated them. Probably why you soon quit afterwards._

His memories ( _are they? is he allowed to call them memories? what if they're not real?_ ) are messy and yet, despite knowing he will end up with the biggest _migraine_ afterward, Dick keeps trying. There’s something that tells him there’s more to that. Like a mystery, he has to uncover and find out, connect the missing clues that are scattered in his mind.

The fact that his family—is he allowed to call them family? Are they _even_ his real family? Who _are_ they?—doesn’t tell him much about his past life frustrates him. They’re vague and elusive whenever he approaches him about the subject.

 _Doesn’t matter_ , Dick thinks as he lays in the bed and closes his eyes ready for another session of forcing his brain to give him a hint of _who he was_. Next to him is a bottle of painkillers and a cup of water just in case things get ugly.

Because he _will_ solve this puzzle with or _without_ their help.

No matter what.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you like this please let me know! Hope you have a good day!


End file.
